


what you've been dreaming about

by spibsy (lucy_and_ramona)



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Gen, Magical Realism, Mental Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_and_ramona/pseuds/spibsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>seth is not weak. he refuses to be. he believes that it's something he can control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you've been dreaming about

**Author's Note:**

> commissioned by awesomewong for ray (praetorian-guard)! the prompt was: bray wyatt preys on seth’s insecurities/seth abandons the shield for the wyatts instead of the authority.

Seth has never thought of himself as weak.

It’s a word he’s actively refused, actually. There are labels he will accept even if they aren’t true, even if he disagrees with them, but there are words that he won’t accept being used to describe him, and weak is one of them.

He’s spent so long in this industry being made to feel weak. He was always too small, and that was a word that made him roll his eyes, because he’s not, not really, in the grand scheme of things, but for a wrestler, yeah, okay, he’s small. But he’s not weak.

That’s probably why it takes him so long to realize what’s happening. It’s not because he’s stupid, not because he can’t understand, it’s just because he’s spent so long refusing to be weak that he failed to realize that there are things that can make you weak when you never were. There are people who delight in taking strong people and breaking them.

Bray Wyatt is one of those people.

The thing is that Bray always seemed like he had a thing about Dean. Seth never bothered looking over his shoulder because it seemed straightforward. Dean was the one Bray always focused on, tried to break, tried to manipulate.

But Dean is and has always been the strongest of them. Maybe not physically, but despite what people say, Dean’s mind is like a trap. Dean’s the one always paying attention to the way people talk, the things they do. Dean’s never surprised by anything. He’s always one step ahead of the game.

Seth, though, Seth’s downfall has always been his confidence, and he knows it. It’s not enough of a problem, or it wasn’t, that it was something he needed to work on, but it’s enough of a problem that it can be used against him. Clearly.

_Step on a crack, break your brother’s back._

Seth shakes his head, swatting a hand at nothing like a dog with water in its ears. It’s that voice again, it’s with him all the time now, and he knows who it is but still he can’t admit it. Refuses to.

“You okay?”

Dean, out loud, looking at him like he’s been trying to get Seth’s attention for a while. His eyes are narrowed but Seth knows Dean and there’s concern clear in the way his mouth is quirked down. He’s twisted around in the front seat the way Roman hates, his head tilted while he waits for Seth’s response.

Seth has to swallow against a lump in his throat and force a smile. “Fine,” he says, and it must not be convincing at all, because Dean hums at him and narrows his eyes more. “Really,” he says. That’s a little better, more confidence to it. “Just thinking about the match last night.”

Dean’s expression clears a little. “Fuckin’ great, wasn’t it?” he mutters. “Make Evolution think twice before they fuckin’ mess with us again.”

“Language,” says Roman from the front seat, teasing, and Dean squawks, turning back around in his seat to bicker with Roman. Unlike a few months ago, though, it’s all lighthearted, and Seth relaxes in his seat for a moment, comforted by the normalcy of it all.

For how long? asks the voice in his head, and Seth grunts under his breath. How long until they’re at each other’s throats again? With you stuck in the middle.

Seth pinches his wrist, hard, and the voice quiets. He can still feel it there, though, in the back of his head, and the unpleasant ache from it only gets worse as they get closer to the arena for Raw.

The beginning of the show is fine. Normal. Evolution come out and have an argument and Batista quits, and it finally starts to look like maybe this is a war they’ve really won.

Dean and Roman are pleased enough with it, snickering and trading little comments about how a team always beats three individuals and this just proves it.

God, that feeling in the back of his head is still there and it’s awful, makes his throat dry and his hands shake. Seth shoves his hands down his legs to brush off dust that isn’t there and says, “I’m gonna go grab a water.”

Dean waves him off and Roman asks him to grab one for him too, which sucks because now Seth’s going to actually have to go get water instead of wandering and trying to clear his head like he was planning to.

He rubs at his temples as he leaves, aimlessly turning down hallways until he really has no idea where in the arena he is. 

Or maybe it wasn’t aimless, because he makes a last right turn and Bray Wyatt is leaning against the wall.

“How interesting to meet you, here,” he says, while Seth is still struck mute from surprise. “Seth Rollins.”

“What do you want?” asks Seth, and it’s many questions rolled into one, but Bray doesn’t answer any of them when he grins, too many teeth in his mouth, some animal instinct in Seth making him want to recoil and run away. His feet are rooted to the floor.

“Many things,” Bray says, taking a step closer. “Many of which I have. Power, faith, brotherhood.”

“You don’t know what brotherhood is,” says Seth, one of his feet inching back, though it’s so hard. How can it be so hard to lift his foot? “You have followers.”

Bray hisses like that’s an insult, and it seems to echo, but when it bounces off the walls, it starts to sound more like laughter. “And what do you have, Mr. Rollins?” he asks, tilting his head with a gleam in his eye. “What are you to them?”

“Family,” says Seth, but it’s quiet. It’s as true as anything else he knows.

“Tick, tock,” says Bray, tipping his hat up with one finger and meeting Seth’s eyes. Seth feels, abruptly, the sort of anger he’s never felt before, all-encompassing, fury and rage. “How sure are you that they feel the same way?”

“I’m sure,” says Seth, but he’s saying it to an empty hallway. He spins wildly, his feet suddenly unstuck from the floor, but Bray is gone.

And his head hurts again. He hadn’t noticed, but it stopped while he was talking to Bray.

“You look weird,” says Dean once Seth gets back, tossing Roman a bottle of water and keeping one for himself. “You good, man?”

Seth looks at Dean, and he knows Dean cares, knows Dean is really, honestly asking if he’s okay, but he never should have left this room because now… there’s doubt. Not much. But some.

“Yeah, fine,” says Seth, twisting the cap off of his water. “Don’t know why you keep asking me that, dude.”

“‘Cause you keep looking weird,” says Dean, visibly searching Seth’s eyes with suspicion.

“Just his face,” says Roman, and Dean grins, though it’s clearly reluctant. He keeps a close eye on Seth the rest of the time they’re in the locker room.

There’s a vague sense of foreboding on the heels of Seth’s feet as they walk down the hallway on their way to the ring. He doesn’t know why. But he does know that his headache is getting worse, pounding in his temples, like someone knocking on a door inside his head as hard as they can.

He’s half expecting it when halfway through their promo in the ring, the lights go out.

His head hurts so fucking bad when the lights come back on that he stumbles over his feet sliding out of the ring to get a few chairs. This is Bray Wyatt, Seth’s not giving him a chance to get an advantage on them.

Bray’s talking but Seth’s not listening. He hears Dean, next to him, mumble, “What are they doing out here?” and Roman, just as quiet, say, “I don’t know. Stay on guard.”

Seth’s feet are rooted to the ground again, staring at Bray, and Bray is staring back, still talking into the microphone but the voice in Seth’s head is suddenly so loud that it makes Seth wince.

_Step on a crack._

“No,” Seth whispers, half-hoping either Roman or Dean will hear, but they’ve wandered closer to the ropes, too far to be in hearing range.

_Break your brother’s back._

“No,” says Seth, but his feet are moving, taking a careful step back, and his hands are lifting.

_Break your brother’s back. Break your brother’s back. BREAK his BACK._

It’s so loud, and Seth’s head hurts so much, and he feels it again, that abrupt, rushing anger. There’s a loud smack of metal on man and all of Seth’s breath falls out of his lungs in one gasp, because Roman’s on the mat groaning and holding his back.

 _Yes_. It’s the voice again, hissing in his head. _And the other._

Seth grits his teeth and tries to stop but his hands are moving again, jamming the chair into Dean’s gut, then over his back.

The only thing he can hear is hissing laughter bouncing off walls.


End file.
